Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song

Title:  from T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” (Part III, The Fire Sermon).  Image:  a bit (a lot) how I feel at the moment– and if you don’t recognize it, go watch classic SNL, for I pity you.

Updated:  A few things have been added, changed, and shuffled.  Also, thanks to everyone who’s contacted me in various ways so far.  I haven’t responded to everyone yet, not because I’m ignoring you but because I spent a large part of the morning flatlined.

It is officially April 1st, and I have been waiting all year to say that “April is the cruellest month.”  Were Madame Sosostris present to read my cards, I suspect she’d agree this is an accurate prediction.


A most excellent Magic card. I want this one.

Speaking of which, I’m studying tarot at the moment (want to?).


When I start holing up and not leaving the house, while surrounded by piles of junk, Homer & Langely style, it should make for a passable career.  I’m hoping for one of those flashing neon palm signs.


Something like this in the front window of my falling-down hovel (where, needless to say, I will be hoarding cats) should raise the land value.

I have nothing super-chipper to say (clearly).  I’ve already been characterized this week by the statement “you read a lot,” which is possibly the thing I hate to hear most of all.  Casting me as a person with her nose in a book has been a favorite and recurring insult for a very, very long time.  I could go into all the further implications of this (most of which have been spelled out for me at one time or another), but, suffice to say, I’m that guy in that Twilight Zone episode.

Starts out well . . .

Starts out well . . .


Again: if you haven’t seen this, now’s the time to question your upbringing. What did you watch, Saved by the Bell or something?

(Incidentally, I was once asked if I wore glasses to “look smart.”  If the reading versus the glasses don’t seem similar, they actually are:  they’re both judgments about a person based on what is seen/observed.)


Kind of like this. “How do you known she is a witch?” “She looks like one!”

I wouldn’t ever give up reading, of course.  But it’s not the essence of my existence.


So:  resist a single, essential definition (self-defined or assigned from without).  Read a good poem on April 1st, or play a practical joke that doesn’t hurt anybody.  Resist psychic death.

I could kind of also use your good vibes right now.


100% Internet-generated awesomeness. LOOK WHAT TECHNOLOGY CAN DO!!!

Something’s misfiring or short-circuiting.  I don’t understand what’s up, and I can’t give any explanation because of that, because it doesn’t make any sense to me.  I’m sure it looks like stubbornness when there’s actually some sort of roadblock that literally (I do mean literally) paralyzes me.

I’ll try to think Alice thoughts, which seem to mainly involve sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, and everything that’s wonderful (and, at the moment, Girl Scout cookies, which she loves.  I would reiterate that she is not spoiled).


Alice thought example 1: “Chin scratching blisses me out. Life is good.”


Alice thought example 2: “I am warm and safe and comfortable and snuggly. Why worry?”

So that’s all, folks.  Here are some other things you can read:

22 Amazon reviews of The L Word that qualify for WTF? status

Which Orphan Black clone are you?  (note:  I do not have cable.  Season 3 spoilers will get you cut.)

Ab Fab quotes, suitable for pitying fools and destroying your enemies.  Please join me in petitioning Netflix to make the series available, stat.

–Sir Pterry will live on in the clacks.  We salute you.

–McSweeney’s (where I spend a good portion of my time) presents “RECENT HIT POP SONGS CO-WRITTEN BY INFLUENTIAL FEMINIST PHILOSOPHERS.”  Oddly, I’m not finding these in the iTunes store . . .

One last thing:  the Blue Velvet cake (via @undeadmolly):


Baby wants to . . . eat cake? That’s a cake, all right.

All with April birthdays who are avid David Lynch fans should take note.

All who know someone with an April birthday who is an avid David Lynch fan who has a really pathetic bootleg copy of Eraserhead (featuring subtitles in an unknown language) that they bought on eBay in the early 2000s should take note that there is now a Criterion collection edition available.


And, in a further update today (the post was pre-scheduled), I’m alarmed to see that Chaucer and #WhatThatAprilleDay are trending tremendously– whereas Eliot is not.  Where are my modernists?!?  The entire English language is dead, anyway, as recent OED additions confirm.

4 thoughts on “Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song

  1. whathewha says:

    April Fool to anyone who thinks all you do is read! You also talk WAY TOO MUCH about David Lynch 😛. Kidding, maybe. Love you, you know how to get me if you need unicorns farting rainbows. Where the hell is the emoji for that?


  2. SylviaBeach79 says:

    More than books, EY. GP, bad jokes, night owling, pigs, /rants, “no matter how paranoid you are,” and your scary links collection…etc.

    For you:


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